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Why it's difficult to call a professor by his first name

Canadians are less concerned with social titles — but in an age of Internet aliases, not everyone is ready to eschew honorifics.

Jack Chambers used to introduce himself to students by saying, "even if it's difficult for some of you, call me Jack." But Chambers, 65, a linguistics professor at University of Toronto, says young people often find it hard to call somebody who's "old and grey" by their first name. (CARLOS OSORIO / TORONTO STAR) | Order this photo

Barbara Schreck, 49, says she used to be more old-fashioned about social titles, but she's changing with the times. "It seems to be more normal now for a child to approach an adult and call them by their first name," she says. Her 9-year-old niece calls her "Barbara." (Toronto Star / Nicole Baute)

By Nicole BauteLiving Reporter

Thu., April 22, 2010

When Jack Chambers introduced himself to a classroom of students 30 or so years ago, the University of Toronto professor would try to counter the 1970s “aura of elitism” with this preamble:

“Even if it’s difficult for some of you, call me Jack.”

He still prefers Jack, but the 65-year-old has come to accept that many students will insist on “Professor Chambers.”

“It’s difficult for students to call somebody who’s old and grey by their first name,” he says.

Chambers, a professor of linguistics, says society has become less concerned with honorifics and social titles.

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Some people think that’s a good thing — that “Mr.” and “Mrs.” should be left in the past, along with curtseys and fox hunting. But after chatting with a random sample of Torontonians, there are still plenty of “Misters” and”Mesdames” out there — that not everyone is ready to eschew honorifics in an age of Internet aliases and Lady Gaga.

It all depends on where, how and when you were raised — and whether you think a few little letters spell respect.

Phil Williams, 29, a teacher, grew up in Hamilton, where he was raised primarily by a “pretty liberal” mother. “She was writing about power dynamics in the ’80s, when it was cool to,” he says.

Williams asks his students to call him “Phil,” even though convention suggests he opt for “Mr. Williams.” “They’re kids,” he says. “I want to speak to them on the same level as I would to everyone else.”

Unless it’s a professional situation (such as, say, a job search), Williams refers to adults by their first names, too. But he knows not everyone likes it.

“You can tell by facial expressions and body language, especially older men, you can tell,” he says.

Vince Bowes is the type to wince. The 47-year-old public service employee thinks first names are personal, something to be held close. “One thing I really hate is when someone who doesn’t know me asks me my name and they start using it right off,” he says, while walking his dog on Carlton St.

Bowes calls men “Mr.,” but says the women present “a real quagmire.” There are just too many options.

Until the 1970s, Mrs. and Miss were the only titles commonly used for women, forcing them to be labelled as either married or single. It wasn’t until a group of American feminists launched Ms. Magazine that “Ms.” gained popular modern use. It’s now the default women’s title recommended by most etiquette experts and organizations.

But both genders remain baffled by the array of options.

Sarah Thornley, 23, says none really work for her.

“Miss” makes her feel young and immature. She hates “ma’am” and “Ms.” makes her feel like a spinster.

“Just call me Sarah, that’s all,” she says.

But Thorney — er, Sarah — still calls her elders Mr. and Mrs., because that’s how she was raised.

“A lot of people are surprised when you refer to them by Mr. and Mrs. now, because we expect everyone to be so casual,” she says.

Honorifics may be in flux amongst civilians, but their rank has not changed in the military, where formalities inherited from the British are still used.

Canadian Forces’ policy demands members address each other by either rank and surname, just rank, or “sir” and “ma’am.”

Louise Fox, owner of Toronto’s The Etiquette Ladies, says North Americans are notably casual, but warns that people from many other parts of the world are not. When it comes to business, especially international business, it’s crucial to show respect by using social titles.

“Globally, it’s still important and you wouldn’t want to make a faux pas that’s easily fixed, easily remedied,” she says. “How hard it is to say, Mr. Whatever?”

The diversity within Canada makes things even more confusing.

Daniel Huete moved to Toronto seven years ago. The 19-year-old grew up in a small town in Honduras, where he was raised to say hello to every “Señor” or “Señora” he passed on the street — or else. “Back in the day, they would tell your parents, ‘Your son didn’t say hi to me!’ ” he says.

Huete works part-time in a grocery store, where he’s forever calling young men “sir” — and being corrected.

Gaya, who did not want her last name used, is from Armenia, where anyone more than 20 years older than you expects to be called “Tikin” (Mrs.) or “Paron” (Mr.).

Even after living in Toronto for two years, the 32-year-old mother is still stressed by the casual way Canadians speak to their elders.

“Even when I just meet someone, I’m stuck,” she says. “I don’t know how to address (them). I don’t want to offend them.”

“Aunt” and “uncle” are another matter altogether. Some families are informal and use first names — Barbara Schreck is just Barbara to her 9-year-old niece. But other parents teach their children to call even family friends “aunt” and “uncle.”

Diana Mancuso, who runs the blog Toronto Teacher Mom, is Portuguese and her husband is Italian. Their two young children have three biological aunts and two biological uncles, but also a dozen extra “zias” and “zios” who are actually family friends, not relatives.

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